To George Herbert,
SENT HIM WITH ONE OF MY SEALS OF THE
ANCHOR AND CHRIST.
QUI prius assuetus serpentum fasce tabellas
Signare, hæc nostræ symbola parva domus,
Adscitus domui Domini, patrioque relicto
Stemmate, nanciscor stemmata jure nova.
Hinc mihi Crux primo quæ fronti impressa lavacro,
Finibus extensis, anchora facta patet.
Anchoræ in effigiem Crux tandem desinit ipsam,
Anchora fit tandem Crux tolerata diu.
Hoc tamen ut fiat, Christo vegetatur ab ipso
Crux, et ab affixo est Anchora facta Jesu.
Nec natalitiis penitus serpentibus orbor,
Non ita dat Deus, ut auferat ante data.
Qua sapiens, dos est, qua terram lambit et ambit,
Pestis, at in nostra sit medicina Cruce
Serpens fixa Cruci si sit natura, Crucique
A fixo nobis gratia tota fluat.
Omnia cum Crux sint, Crux Anchora fixa, sigillum
Non tam dicendum hoc, quam catechismus erit.
Mitto, nec exigua, exigua sub imagine, dona,
Pignora amicitiæ, et munera vota preces.
Plura tibi accumulet sanctus cognominis, Ille
Regia qui flavo dona sigillat equo.
poem by John Donne
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Related quotes
The crux... is that the vast majority of the mass of the universe seems to be missing.
quote by William J. Broad
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When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid-in which case all comment is superfluous-or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
quote by Miguel de Unamuno
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When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid - in which case all comment is superfluous - or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Not only the entire ability to think rests on language... but language is also the crux of the misunderstanding of reason with itself.
quote by Johann G. Hamann
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The big studio era is from the coming of sound until 1950, until I came in... I came in at a crux in film, which was the end of the studio era and the rise of filmmaking.
quote by Charlton Heston
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I think the crux of the matter was that if we were going to become partners in, for example, the International Space Station, we had to gain the respect of a country like the United States and particularly its space organization, NASA.
quote by Marc Garneau
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Magnetic Game
Every poor uses slang
But the crux of the fun
Is that every one wants to be a rich man
If one day I become the richest one
On that day I surely will be a fakir or nun
And my whole property will be for the poor man
As I need nothing more than
Two pieces of cloths
And two timely meals
But in the middle there is a game
Very non-materialistic
People call it name and fame
Towards it every one madly rushes in
As it is very, very magnetic
But you can not earn any thing
Until it is given to you by the masses, the poor man
poem by Abdul Wahab
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To A Gentleman That Only Upon The Sight Of The Author's Writing, Had Given A Character Of His Person And Judgment Of His Fortune. Illustrissimo Vero Domino Lanceloto Josepho De Maniban Grammatomantis
Quis posthac chartae committat sensa loquaci,
Si sua crediderit Fata subesse stylo?
Conscia si prodat Seribentis Litera sortem,
Quicquid & in vita plus latuisse velit?
Flexibus in calami tamen omnia sponte leguntur:
Quod non significant Verba, Figura notat.
Bellerophonteas signat sibi quisque Tabellas;
Ignaramque Manum Spiritus intus agit.
Nil praeter solitum sapiebat Epistola nostra,
Exemplumque meae Simplicitatis erat.
Fabula jucundos qualis delectat Amicos;
Urbe, lepore, novis, carmine tota scatens.
Hic tamen interpres quo non securior alter,
(Non res, non voces, non ego notus ei)
Rimatur fibras notularum cautus Aruspex,
Scriptur aeque inhians consulit exta meae.
Inde statim vitae casus, animique recessus
Explicat; (haud Genio plura liquere putem.)
Distribuit totum nostris eventibus orbem,
Et quo me rapiat cardine Sphaera docet.
Quae Sol oppositus, quae Mars adversa minetur,
Jupiter aut ubi me, Luna, Venusque juvent.
Ut trucis intentet mihi vulnera Cauda Draconis;
Vipereo levet ut vulnera more Caput.
Hinc mihi praeteriti rationes atque futuri
Elicit; Astrologus certior Astronomo.
Ut conjecturas nequeam discernere vero,
Historiae superet sed Genitura fidem.
Usque adeo caeli respondet pagina nostrae,
Astrorum & nexus syllaba scripta refert.
Scilicet & toti subsunt Oracula mundo,
Dummodo tot foliis una Sibylla foret.
Partum, Fortunae mater Natura, propinquum
Milie modis monstrat mille per indicia:
Ingentemque Uterum qui mole Puerpera solvat
Vivit at in praesens maxima pars hominum.
Ast Tu sorte tua gaude Celeberrime Vatum;
Scribe, sed haud superest qui tua fata legat.
Nostra tamen si fas praesagia jungere vestris,
Quo magis inspexti sydera spernis humum.
Et, nisi stellarum fueris divina propago,
Naupliada credam te Palamede satum.
Qui dedit ex aviun scriptoria signa volatu,
Sydereaque idem nobilis arte fuit.
Hinc utriusque tibi cognata scientia crevit,
Nec minus augurium Litera quam dat Avis.
poem by Andrew Marvell
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Romance Of The Minds
I like her
I adore her
I admire her
With all honesty
At my command
I respect her
She respects me
Waits to hear from me
When I am depressed
Patiently listens to me
Motivates me
Her soothing words
Act as a medicine for me
Elevates my mood
She makes me smile
Devoid of
Any sexual urge
Sincerity and Purity
Are the crux
Of our relationship
Romance between our minds
Keeps our friend ship
Going
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The truth about friendship
Trusting &sharing
Listening & saying
Helping each other
Giving
Without expecting
Respecting
The sentiments
Of the other
No greed, No hate
No ill feeling
Not doubting
Each other
Not comparing
With each other,
Loving each other
No one bigger,
No one smaller
Laughing together,
Crying together
Sailing together,
Drowning together
It is all about
Friendship
Easier to talk
Difficult to practice
Is the truth about
Friendship
Which is the crux of all?
Relationships
17-01-2012
57-57-01-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Transit
A woman I have never seen before
Steps from the darkness of her town-house door
At just that crux of time when she is made
So beautiful that she or time must fade.
What use to claim that as she tugs her gloves
A phantom heraldry of all the loves
Blares from the lintel? That the staggered sun
Forgets, in his confusion, how to run?
Still, nothing changes as her perfect feet
Click down the walk that issues in the street,
Leaving the stations of her body there
Like whips that map the countries of the air.
poem by Richard Wilbur
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Mudered By Gun Shot
The most wonderful …
The most magnificent gift from Lord
Poets of the world promoting it, for long,
What are you looking? thinking? what?
There is abandon joy, jump in it!
Fearful of morality? they debated out
‘' sick mind needs morality as the sick body needs medication ‘'
Fearful of STDs and VDs? they invented condoms
My friends are using it
But the crux of the matter is that
It can not protect you cent percent
The other day one of my friends is murdered
With a gun shot by her husband.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Sonnet: On LOVE
Love is the secret to all Life's success;
Love is the mystery of God's Creation;
Love is the crux of Earthly happiness;
Love is the core of any strong nation.
Love is the ruler of all hearts and minds;
Love is the weapon feared most by all foes;
Love is the glue of families that binds;
Love is what goads both husband, wife, of course.
Love is what flows from Teachers to pupils;
Love is what parents give their children dear;
Love is the healer of all wounds and ills;
Love is the cloth that wipes anyone's tear.
Love is what makes a man forgive brethren;
Love is the road to Truth and God- HEAVEN.
poem by John Celes
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Descent
Falling victim from neglect
Designed thoughts and intellect
Forgotten and displaced
The crux of my dismay
I feel nothing
I am nothing
I feel nothing
Nothing
How deep I descend?
Until I reach my end?
How deep I descend?
Deeper into this abyss
Weighted down and sinking fast
Life did not offer me
More than false destiny
I feel nothing
I am nothing
I feel nothing
Nothing
How deep I descend?
Until I reach my end?
How deep I descend?
I am nothing
I feel nothing
I am nothing
I feel nothing
Nothing
Nothing...
How deep I descend?
Until I reach my end?
How deep I descend?
song performed by by Fear Factory from Obsolete
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Shadows of the Cosmos
From the molten rocks came coal,
And from the gods came man, unique,
A paradox~ the human soul,
A marvelous madhouse! A maze of mystique!
We are living in a world unknown,
A world of pain and of delight,
A world of water, air, and stone,
A world illumed by heaven's light!
This world is our home, our womb, our casket,
Where we remain forever bound,
And with my blanket and my basket,
I shall stray from sound to sound!
We are at the crux of nothing!
We are in a black abyss!
We are gushing, loving, crushing!
We are something unlike this!
I shall spend my short life living,
For that is all that one can do,
And though the pain is unforgiving,
I'll bear it just to be with you.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Live, By God, Live!
perhaps i've said what i wanted to say poorly...
the crux of the matter is this:
we are where we are because
we've put ourselves here,
we've allowed this to happen to us!
we blame the government,
we blame people who are 'different',
we blame the economy,
we blame god,
we blame each other.
bottom line, we are to blame.
we cannot evolve as human beings
without evolving as a society.
we cannot evolve as people,
without evolving as a nation.
we cannot evolve as citizens,
without evolving as citizens of the world.
we've stood by, and done nothing.
we have run from the truth,
we have betrayed ourselves!
we've existed in tiny cells,
denying our responsibilities.
this has to stop!
we are out of time.
we are surrounded by suffering,
and our indifference is the cause.
stand up! shout! demand dignity!
and Live, by god, Live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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With pen in hand.
I have been blessed
Reading of the manic, the happy
And the stressed.
Prodded on by hunting poems web site,
I try to rhyme with all my might.
Who would of guessed?
I am sourronded by peers,
Who write about fears and fantasy,
Birds dogs and gators.
About sin and strife,
The crux of ones life.
In an elavator or in a war.
They speak of love and lust
The one most mighty
Or when they went bust.
Then I am hooked on thier stories of life
How they lost thier dog and then thier wife
Their ego and pride.
They probably ran away with the bride.
I want to write something great
Like perhaps this lonesome heart ache
To honor my peers
where we stand.
With pen and ink in hand,
We will wander through the hunter of poets land.
The pen is truley mightier than the sword.
0398 The Blackbird's Song
Waking to the blackbird's song -
insisting, so it seems, on something close to joy and praise...
the sun's just breaking through the morning mist;
the smell of coffee and hot bread rolls,
the gentle stir of household come to life:
it's a good day, the best of days, right now.
Showered, with the inner glow of a man who's
just those few and precious minutes ahead of schedule
and thus with goodwill there to share -
and what?
Is goodwill quite enough, as you bounce into the office,
or (o hero) into the morning classroom, or
the matey pride of factory floor?
This is the tricky crux of this poem, and who am I...
now in this summer morning's glow of goodwill to all men
- and to all womankind, rejoicing themselves and you
in summer's clothes - is there a place
within this glow, for, go on say it, joy?
And if joy, is there, then, gratitude?
And if there's gratitude, is there, then, praise?
Meanwhile
the blackbird
just sings.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Names of the Constellations
All visible stars contained
within eighty-eight Constellations
- the Author claimed
names that intrigue
my Wandering but Meeting-bound Mind:
the Tarantula Nebula is in Dorado, the Goldfish
Hydra, the Water Snake is the largest constellation
while Crux, the Southern Cross is the smallest one
– a word of explanation:
the stars in Constellation have no relations
only sharing proximity in the sky
as seen from earth -
the brightest star is called Sirius
Canis Major, the Great Dog
the brightest star, the shining Lucida
in Orion, the Hunter, Rigel is called
while the brightest star in Carina, the Ship’s Keel
is known as Canopus -
with the names of the Constellations
I might just write my Magnum Opus!
poem by Margaret Alice
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If Tristan was mending his girlfriend's jewelry, would he use an Isolde-ring Iron?
I wondered, if the hero had been overweight or baldy
would women weep, perhaps lose sleep, o'er Tristan and Isolde?
And then I pushed derision from my vision of the plot
and asked my heart to seek the part, wherein the story got
its hook and held my interest. The part where it took hold.
The crux of what draws in the masses, since the days of old.
How can we find a modern link, a crude analogy
compared to such medieval ink which peppered History.
I thought then of a trinket. A desk-top toy per chance,
those cradles of ball bearings swinging in hypnotic trance.
For love to last eternally, would mirror this toy's mission
and live within the pleasing din that chimes with each collision.
And just as in enchanted forests, mystic wood or copse...
The forces great will separate them, till at last,
the cradle stops.
poem by Hola Mentirosa
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